Jedi Trial (8 page)

Odie was so surprised—and pleased—she didn’t know how to react, so she blurted out quickly, “Sergeant Maganinny said recon troopers always ride to the sound of the guns. Shall we?”

“Turn this thing around and let’s go!”

But when Odie depressed the foot pedal, the speeder’s motor only whined feebly.

“Out of power?” Erk hoped he didn’t sound as worried as he felt. He hopped off the speeder so that Odie could access the power-cell compartment housed in the rear.

“No,” she answered, a concerned expression on her face. “And these things are usually maintenance-free.”

“Here, look at this.” Erk pointed to a small hole in the housing cover. He felt the hole with a finger. “You’ve been shot. Feel the edges around this hole: it was burned through.”

“I—I did have a run-in with some enemy troopers,”
she said, popping the cover. She grimaced and looked away. The compartment was full of grit, and the power cell was coated with sand heat-fused into glass. As they stood looking down into the compartment, the cell gave a little
pop!
and a thin tendril of smoke rose upward. “That’s it,” she said. “We’re foot-mobile now.” She stepped back and looked down at her speeder for a moment, then began to cry.

“Hey!” Erk laid a hand on her shoulder. “We’re okay. We’ll make it.”

“It’s not that.” Odie shook her head. “It’s—it’s my speeder!”

“Oh,” Erk said, mentally kicking himself. “I should’ve known,” he muttered. “A recon trooper and her speeder, a pilot and his fighter.” He shrugged. “Come on, trooper, we’re both widows now.”

Odie smiled through her tears. “It’s stupid but, well, you know, that speeder and me …” She threw up her hands.

“How far do you think we are from the center?”

“Maybe seventy-five or one hundred kilometers?”

“Can we make it on foot?”

Odie shook her canteen. “If we can conserve our water.” They had both drunk as much water as they could hold before starting out from the caves in an attempt to tank up for the long journey ahead of them, but they had been figuring on riding Odie’s speeder, not walking.

“Do you know where there’s any water along the way?”

Odie shook her head. “We’ll look as we go.” She popped open the storage compartment beneath her
seat and began to withdraw items they’d need on the trek.

“We just have everything going for us, don’t we?” Erk said wryly.

“Well, I hope those bug stompers you’re wearing will hold up.” Odie gestured at her own heavy boots, standard issue for reconnaissance troopers, who needed such footwear to protect their feet and legs from brush, stones, and debris. Erk’s boots were much lighter and didn’t look very sturdy.

“With me as your copilot, we’ve got it made,” Erk replied as, bowing, he bade her lead the way.

“We are
what
?” Tonith shrieked, jumping to his feet and spilling some tea down the front of his white robe when his chief of staff told him they were being attacked. “By whom? Full details,” he demanded, recovering some of his composure.

“Apparently, sir, we were being shadowed by another force. They couldn’t have come from Coruscant or Sluis Van, and they had to be small to avoid our detection—”

Tonith impatiently waved a hand at Karaksk. “Get on with it.” Already his mind was working. He didn’t like surprises, but one had to deal with them. By the time the Bothan finished with his report, his fur was continually rippling, but the worse the news became, the calmer Tonith grew.

“Sir,” Karaksk ventured, “I believe you should have stayed with the fleet. The ships are being thrown into confusion.” As soon as he uttered those words he regretted
them and almost cringed at the angry outburst that he was sure would follow.

Tonith held up a hand. “No, the issue shall be decided here, not in orbit.” He paused, and Karaksk sighed with relief that the admiral had let his remark pass. “Very well,” Tonith went on, as though talking to himself. “They are much smaller than our force; they are behind us. Here is what they’ll do: they will attempt to close with us as soon as possible, get close enough so our ships in orbit won’t be able to fire on them for fear of hitting us. We should expect a flexible battle plan and plenty of individual initiative—they’d have to have that, and boldness, to attack us like this.” He raised a bony forefinger and waggled it at the Bothan. “There is a fine line between boldness and foolhardiness. Let’s see how we can turn that against them. Begin fortifying our positions immediately. We’ll let them attack us all they want. When their strength is depleted, that’s when we’ll counterattack.”

Carefully, Tonith recovered his teacup. He shook out the few remaining drops and methodically, in a well-practiced gesture, poured more of the steaming liquid. From close by came the rumble of fighting. He grinned, revealing his purple-stained teeth. “Ah, a challenge,” he said, sipping the tea. “Very interesting, very interesting indeed.”

The one factor Zozridor Slayke hadn’t counted on was Pors Tonith.

S
upreme Chancellor Palpatine made a series of calls, one of them to Senator Paige-Tarkin.

Senator Paige-Tarkin had never seen the Chancellor looking this worried, HoloNet transceiver image or not. His hair appeared even grayer than it did in person, and his face was more lined by worry. She felt a genuine surge of pity for the great man. She had watched him carefully since his assumption of emergency powers to deal with the Separatist threat, and she believed the cares of public service in this crisis were wearing the poor man down.

“This is a matter of the utmost urgency,” he said. “I need to see you at once.”

“We can’t discuss it now?” she asked. “I’m expecting dinner guests.”

“No, I am afraid this venue is not secure for what we have to talk over.” The Chancellor’s image smiled sadly. “I do apologize for interrupting your plans like this, Senator.”

“No, no, not at all, sir, I am at your disposal. How long do you think we’ll be?”

“It could take some time, Senator. I do apologize again.”

She hesitated. A member of the powerful Tarkin family, Paige-Tarkin was an unabashed admirer of the Supreme Chancellor, and in her public and private life she described him as the one person who could lead the Republic to victory in this crisis. Now he, who had devoted his entire life to public service, was apologizing for asking her to interrupt an evening at home with friends to deal with important galactic business? “No bother,” she responded, her voice catching with emotion, “but can you give me any idea what it involves?”

“All I can tell you is that a situation has arisen that might have the most serious consequences for the inhabitants of the Seswenna sector, Senator.”

Paige-Tarkin’s heart skipped a beat—Seswenna was the sector she represented in the Senate. “Where shall we meet?”

“My apartment, as quickly as you can get here. I must—”

“Your apartment, Supreme Chancellor?” she blurted. “Not your office?”

Palpatine shook his head. “This is a matter of the utmost sensitivity—it’s best if nobody knows about the meeting yet. My security droids are sweeping my apartment even as we speak; it would take longer to assure the security of my office. Now I must invite some others, so please excuse me.” The image vanished before she could ask who the others might be.

Quickly, Paige-Tarkin canceled her engagements, changed, and called for transportation.

Mas Amedda received the next call. As Speaker of
the Senate and a loyal follower of the Supreme Chancellor, Amedda was best known for keeping his mouth shut and maintaining order during Senate debates. He had also supported granting Palpatine the emergency powers he believed the Supreme Chancellor needed to deal with the Separatists. Palpatine knew he could count on Amedda in this crisis, and his help would be invaluable when the inevitable debate broke out in the Senate.

Then Palpatine summoned Jannie Ha’Nook of Glithnos, a senior member of the Security and Intelligence Council. Ha’Nook saw everything in terms of profit and loss to herself. Although of a somewhat independent mind, she had also voted to grant Palpatine his emergency powers.

Next on the list was Armand Isard, director of Republic Intelligence, a man who knew much but said little.

Finally, Palpatine called Sate Pestage, controller of the Senate’s executive agenda. Pestage was a master of persuasion. Many times since Palpatine’s assumption of emergency powers Pestage had convinced recalcitrant Senators to get behind the Supreme Chancellor.

Thus Supreme Chancellor Palpatine gathered his staunchest allies to deal with his enemies.

Palpatine’s apartment was comfortable but not ostentatious, as befit an abstemious public servant in the service of the people. Since not everyone arrived at the same time, he engaged his guests in small talk until they were all present. As soon as everyone was seated, he nodded to Sly Moore, his administrative aide. At his
signal she engaged the security system that provided additional asssurance that no one eavesdropped on their deliberations.

“We may begin, sir,” she announced.

“I apologize again for getting you all here on such short notice,” Palpatine opened as his guests settled in. “I will come straight to the point. A very powerful Separatist force has captured Praesitlyn. A much smaller force—a rogue force, in fact—is opposing the invasion, but the outcome of this opposition is very much in doubt. Armand, give us the facts as we know them.”

“A Trade Federation invasion force—we don’t know its size or composition but must assume it is very large and very potent—has taken Praesitlyn. We must assume, because all contact has broken off, that they are now holding the Intergalactic Communications Center. We must also assume that they are preparing to use the planet as a springboard for further incursions into the Core Worlds. We received this information in a message sent by the commander of the force the Supreme Chancellor mentioned, which had been shadowing the invasion fleet for some time.”

Paige-Tarkin gasped. “So that’s what you meant!” she exclaimed, looking at the Chancellor. “Have they made any move against the Seswenna sector?”

“Not that we know of,” Palpatine answered. “But they have some means of blocking transmissions, so anything is possible. We do know that they have invested Sluis Van with another fleet of about one hundred twenty-five ships of different classes, evidently a holding operation, not an outright invasion. We must
assume that once they’ve consolidated their hold on Praesitlyn, yes, they will move against Seswenna, Senator, either by force or by argument.”

“We’re making a lot of assumptions here. How do we know all this?” Jannie Ha’Nook asked, looking first at Palpatine and then at Isard.

The Chancellor nodded at Isard to continue. “We received intelligence of this event from Captain Zozridor Slayke.”

“The pirate?” Ha’Nook interjected. She twisted a lock of hair around a forefinger and pursed her lips as she thought.

Palpatine smiled. “Not anymore. I pardoned him.”

“And a good thing you did,” Isard added, “because right now he and his army—the Sons and Daughters of Freedom, as they call themselves—are all that is opposing the Separatist force on Praesitlyn.”

“Who is commanding the invaders?” Ha’Nook asked.

“Through other sources,” Isard replied, smiling cryptically, “we think it might be Pors Tonith of the InterGalactic Banking Clan.” He glanced over at Palpatine, who nodded that he should proceed. “We don’t know much about Tonith, but he is no pushover. As a financier he is known for his ruthlessness, applying almost military precision and determination against his rivals. Apparently he’s had some success leading military operations, too. Anyway, the last message we had from Slayke was that he was about to attack.”

“How big is his force?” Mas Amedda asked.

“I’m not sure how many capital ships, but it’s estimated he has an army of fifty thousand beings.”

“Great balls of fire!” Paige-Tarkin exclaimed. “And he’s going up against a whole Separatist army with a force that size? Unbelievable!” The guests all looked at one another in astonishment.

Palpatine steepled his fingers, carefully placing the tips beneath his nose. “So,” he began, “the situation is desperate. As you all know, our deployable forces are all engaged throughout the galaxy. I do not believe that Captain Slayke, despite his obvious qualities of bravery and resourcefulness, will be able to expel the invaders. He can only upset them, delay them, and even if he does succeed in this, no doubt the Trade Federation is planning on sending an overwhelming follow-on force to secure Praesitlyn.”

“Why would this Slayke and his army ever undertake such a desperate measure?” Ha’Nook asked.

Palpatine shrugged and smiled before he answered. “Slayke is an idealist, a rare commodity in these times.” He smiled again and gestured vaguely, as though saying such people were incomprehensible. He cleared his throat and shifted his position. “Now you see why I called this meeting,” he continued. “I do not want to give our citizens the impression of hasty decision making, but we must act swiftly this evening. Also, it’s very important our people understand the gravity of what has happened and support us totally in our effort to retake the planet and support Captain Slayke—or rescue him, if that’s what is required. I need your help because you are all respected and influential members of the Republic who can convince others to put their support behind me in this. I know, I know, I can dispatch forces at will, I have the power to do that, but we are still a
democracy and I don’t want later to be accused of exercising dictatorial powers or to have my decisions subjected to the sniping of armchair critics after the fact. I’m relying on you to convince your supporters and constituents that I have acted in the best interests of the Republic and that we cannot give up our struggle for freedom because of temporary reverses.”

“And I would add this,” Isard put in. “Slayke’s is not a droid or a clone army. His soldiers are all volunteers and highly motivated individuals. He will give Tonith a run for his credits, no pun intended.”

“What forces do we have that we can spare?” Ha’Nook asked.